The Lord Who Levels Up by Devouring - Chapter 205

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 205. When Fate Draws Two Together (1)
Cambion.
The bastard offspring of a Nightmare and a human.
Yet some among the Cambion abandoned their existence rooted in physical seduction and desire, yearning instead for a life of harmony.
Thus was born a natural race—the Elves.
And the reason the Elves could cast off temptation and desire.
“If the leaf-dwellers’ spirits were to—”
Spirits. The dreams nature itself weaves.
“More precisely, if we could secure ‘earth spirits,’ we could dramatically increase Runesteel ore extraction.”
Broombar concluded his words tersely.
And I fell into contemplation for a moment.
For good reason—
‘I currently have no means of contacting the Elves.’
The Elves, a natural race born from the Nightmare’s separation.
Yet they inherited the Nightmare’s breathtaking beauty and alluring form in full.
The Elves were a race of extraordinary beauty, and unlike the Nightmare, they did not absorb human vitality.
Humans treated Elves as sexual objects regardless of gender.
Ultimately, the Elves retreated to the forests to escape humanity.
So many ages had passed since Elves and humans severed their bonds.
Today, the Elves’ homeland, Sylvandir Forest, had faded from memory and record.
But I knew.
The Spirit Summoner, hero of the Allied Forces.
She was the forest keeper of the Elves.
I carefully retraced my memories from my past life.
‘I’ve heard fragments here and there, but…’
I had never learned the precise location.
Besides, I was not particularly close with the Allied Forces’ heroes aside from Iliana.
The Spirit Summoner was no exception.
I had no memory of sharing personal conversations with her.
The only memories I retained were…
—How bothersome.
Her perpetual grumbling and complaints.
Yet she was genuinely helpful when it mattered.
In any case.
I had not been close enough with The Spirit Summoner to discuss personal matters, and even if I had been, I would not have known.
When The Spirit Summoner joined the Allied Forces, Sylvandir Forest no longer existed.
Back then, everyone was consumed by war, and The Spirit Summoner lived accordingly.
There was neither reason nor need to ask about her vanished homeland’s location.
Therefore, I could not know where Sylvandir Forest was—
“Is there perhaps a way to make contact with the Elves?”
But Broombar was an unknown quantity.
A hero of the Allied Forces and chieftain of the Dwarves.
And the Dwarves were a race born long ago when the Elves fractured and divided.
Dark Elves—rooted not in forests, but in the profound darkness of the underground.
Sharing the same origins, we could have maintained our connections—.
“I do not know.”
Broombar answered tersely and decisively.
His voice carried a coldness born of ancient severance.
‘That’s true.’
The subterranean environment had transformed the Dark Elves far too much.
They themselves no longer considered themselves the same as the Elves.
Thus, Broombar and The Spirit Summoner.
‘Were never on good terms.’
They even hesitated to draw near one another.
In any case, borrowing the power of spirits was impossible.
“Is there no other way to increase mining output besides the spirits?”
“It’s not that there isn’t one, but….”
Broombar murmured quietly.
“The simplest method would be to deploy labor workers.”
Currently, Runesteel was being mined solely through the Arcanoheart’s automated extraction.
If we deployed workers directly for manual mining?
Naturally, output would increase.
It was the simplest and most straightforward method, as he said.
And conveniently, the population of Whitewolf Territory had grown.
Deploying labor workers posed no problem…but.
“As you know, the Runesteel Ore Vein lies 11km underground.”
11km underground, where unimaginable heat and pressure bore down.
If one entered naked?
Your entire body would compress and cook.
Even my Hardened Body[U] couldn’t endure ten minutes.
Now that I’ve devoured the Ogre’s abilities with Predation[S+], could I last about an hour?
Broombar’s Iron Fortress[A+] couldn’t hold out long either.
“Without specially crafted protective suits, ten seconds would be difficult.”
Broombar fell into deep contemplation.
It seemed he was mentally designing and fabricating protective suits—.
“…Unfortunately, 9km underground is the limit.”
He reached a conclusion quickly.
A result derived purely from imagination.
In other words, that alone couldn’t be confirmed as final.
But Broombar was different.
“Complex vibrational waves are reflecting anomalously at 8.7 kilometers underground.”
Hyper Phantasia [L].
Also known as transcendent imagination.
Broombar could perfectly imagine every concept, phenomenon, material, and even the laws governing them that existed.
Through this, tapping a hammer in his mind.
Forging iron in a blacksmith’s forge.
There was no difference between the two.
In fact, Broombar could identify any defects in equipment through imagination alone with perfect accuracy.
“I accelerated the resonance interval and locally expanded the exoskeleton of the shielding suit, but the mana disturbance index skyrocketed by a factor of 48. Even if we amplify the shielding barrier….”
Broombar paused to imagine for a moment before speaking.
“Twelve seconds was the maximum we could endure. Any longer and the nervous tissue begins to deteriorate.”
“I see.”
“Even magical heat dissipation treatment won’t work. There’s mana interference involved.”
“I understand.”
I nodded lightly.
But honestly?
I didn’t understand a word from “complex vibrational waves” onward.
“Realistically, deploying workers is impossible.”
Deploying golems or other equipment was also out of the question.
Mana disturbance? Mana interference?
All these phenomena and whatnot.
“Then realistically, the only way to increase mining output is to borrow the power of spirits.”
Broombar nodded heavily.
Unable to resolve it through his own strength, and dealing with leaf-folk.
It seemed his pride was wounded at having to rely on elven power.
In other words.
“Understood.”
Increasing Runesteel mining output immediately was impossible.
* * *
The Administrative Office of Count’s Castle.
Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the window.
Seraphia sat at her desk, twirling a quill pen.
The population had swelled with migrants.
Businesses had expanded accordingly.
And thus came tremendous development to Whitewolf Territory.
The territory, having undergone such dazzling transformation, could no longer be called a remote frontier.
The workload was no longer at frontier levels either.
Even today alone, countless reports, approvals, and meetings had piled up.
It was an endless cycle of sleepless days—
‘I need to earn more praise from my brother!’
Seraphia let out a soft chuckle and picked up her quill once more.
Just as she was about to dip the nib into the inkwell—
Knock, knock.
A sudden rapping at the door.
“Come in.”
The administrative office door swung open, and a weasel-faced man stepped inside.
“Who are you…?”
Seraphia asked, as if preparing herself for formalities.
The weasel-faced man cleared his throat with a loud harrumph.
“Head of the Bloodyhound Barony, Adlern. I present myself before Count Whitewolf!”
“Eh…?”
What did he just say?
“Lucius Aquilinus Haofeng Raza Montagne….”
“Head of the Bloodyhound Barony, Adlern!”
Adlern?
“Ah! You’re the one who helped my brother so much!”
And he was the one who had developed night mead.
“Oh! Did Adrian mention that?”
“Yes. He said you’ve been an enormous help.”
“My goodness, I don’t know where to put myself.”
Adlern bowed his head repeatedly.
At his comical demeanor, Seraphia smiled softly.
“But what brings you here?”
“Ah, well, you see.”
Adlern presented the stack of documents he was holding.
“Development of peanut wine has been completed, and I’ve come to seek approval for distribution.”
And then—
He bowed deeply at a ninety-degree angle, extending the documents to Seraphia.
Seraphia accepted the papers and examined their contents.
‘Oh….’
Everything was remarkably organized.
Not a single necessary item was missing.
The detailed figures and descriptions were systematic as well.
Seraphia doubted she could have done it this thoroughly herself.
“You’ve been incredibly meticulous with this, haven’t you?”
“Knowing that Count Whitewolf’s time is precious, I prepared everything in advance!”
…Hardly the manner of speech one would expect from a nobleman.
Yet strangely, it was not off-putting.
“Then I’ll review it carefully and let you know by the day after tomorrow.”
“Yes! Please take your time and let me know whenever you’re ready!”
Seraphia organized the documents.
Then, suddenly.
“By the way, may I ask you something?”
“Ah, yes! I shall lend you my ears and listen with utmost attention!”
Adlern tugged at his ears as if he might pluck them clean off.
Fearing they might actually tear, I spoke quickly.
“How did you create a wine like this?”
Adlern answered without hesitation.
“First, thanks to Adrian’s boundless support, and second, thanks to the Dwarves’ technical prowess—”
Adlern suddenly bowed ninety degrees to Seraphia.
“And finally, it was made possible thanks to your trust, Countess Seraphia!”
Seraphia blinked for a moment.
She couldn’t tell if it was flattery or something else.
Whether Adlern knew this or not, he continued earnestly.
“But the real secret, above all else, lies in the raw materials!”
“Raw materials?”
“Precisely! Even the finest chef on the Continent cannot make anything but spoiled food from rotten ingredients!”
Adlern spread his fingers wide as he elaborated.
“Wine is the same! No matter how well you age it or handle the yeast perfectly, if the ingredients are poor, it becomes nothing but spoiled water!”
“But isn’t the peanut flavor here just the same as anywhere else?”
“Not at all!”
Adlern cried out as if the very notion were absurd.
“Even from the same vine, the flavor of peanuts changes depending on the environment!”
Elevation, humidity, sunlight, soil composition, and so forth.
“Even what plants grow nearby affects the taste!”
“I see…”
“So this Schönne!”
Tap, tap!
“To create the finest peanut wine, I’ve gathered every peanut worth its name from across the Continent!”
Eaten them raw.
Roasted, ground, steamed.
“Even chewed them with the shells on!”
“You must have eaten an enormous number of peanuts?”
“I’d wager the peanuts alone that Schönne has consumed could fill a hundred of this territory’s warehouses!”
Adlern puffed out his chest with pride.
“And this is the finest peanut Schönne has selected recently!”
Adlern unfolded a small cloth bundle.
Inside lay golden beans.
That is, shelled peanuts arranged in neat rows.
“Please try one yourself!”
Seraphia carefully picked up a single peanut.
Then she took a bite. Crunch.
“Wow!! This is incredibly delicious!!”
“Isn’t it?”
Adlern continued with a proud expression.
“Even people with peanut allergies can eat these without any problem!”
“Really?! Truly?”
“Absolutely! That’s exactly the kind of feeling Schönne was going for!”
Ah!
This is it!
“This is the ultimate peanut!!”
Adlern suddenly burst into song.
Starlight flows~! Starlight flows~!
Across the western plains, oh how the starlight flows.
How wonderful~! Ah, how wonderful!
Peanuts~♪
Aha, raw peanuts indeed!
“How about that? A folk song born from Schönne’s very soul and passion!”
“Haha….”
…Truly, his energy was extraordinary.
Adlern shrugged his shoulders and twitched the corners of his mouth.
“Anyone who isn’t intoxicated by this peanut flavor surely cannot be human! Therefore!”
“Therefore?”
“I mobilized every method and every bit of information at my disposal to investigate!”
“Investigate?”
“And discovered that these ultimate peanuts were supplied by the Greenleaf Trading Company!”
“Ooh!”
Seraphia found herself drawn into Adlern’s story before she knew it.
It was certainly a tale mixed with absurd excitement and exaggeration.
Yet strangely, she couldn’t tear her ears away from it.
In that sense, Adlern Lucius Aquilinus… what was his full name again?
…Anyway.
The more I conversed with him, the more entertaining he proved to be.
“And so I, Schönne, made contact with an executive at the Greenleaf Trading Company and traced their trade routes and production sites!”
“And then what happened?”
“Well, this fellow wouldn’t give me the information!”
“Not even a hint?”
“That’s just how merchants are—they keep their lips sealed.”
Adlern glanced around cautiously as if sharing a secret, then whispered carefully.
“For merchants, information about their trade partners is their lifeline—they never leak it.”
“Ah.”
“In severe cases, even a single leak in the supply line constitutes a breach of contract and results in expulsion from the Merchant Guild.”
“…How do you know such things so well?”
Just moments ago, with those documents and all.
There was something distinctly different about her—not quite what one would expect from an ordinary person.
“Schönne was an executive of the Merchant Guild.”
“What? Really?”
“Indeed! For a full seven years! The debts I repaid with this mouth alone amounted to hundreds of thousands of gold! And the skill I honed there—that is this very ‘i-n-f-o-r-m-a-t-i-o-n g-a-t-h-e-r-i-n-g’!”
Adlern struck his chest with a resounding thump and cried out.
“And thus, I, Schönne! Head of the Bloodyhound Barony-!”
“Head of the barony?”
“A loyal retainer to our Count Whitewolf-!”
“Ahahaha!”
Seraphia burst into laughter.
There was something oddly endearing about Adlern’s audacity.
“Never one to give up! I, Schönne, racked my brains wondering how to pry open that stubborn mouth-!”
“Wondering how?”
“I presented a night ale that Schönne had personally developed!”
“And then he spoke?”
“At first, he seemed unmoved. But the moment that fellow brought the first cup to his lips-!”
“The moment?”
“Sniff!”
“…What? He cried?”
“He denied it with words, but his tears were honest!”
The exaggerated gestures and tone were almost foolishly theatrical.
Seraphia had to endure considerable effort to suppress her laughter.
“Thus I discovered it was a peanut that grows in Limorak Gorge.”
“…Limorak Gorge?”
“Even Schönne had never heard of the region before, but I’m told it’s an area where mist and dew fall throughout the day.”
“Snow and frost don’t fall there?”
“The southern regions of The Continent receive neither snow nor frost.”
“The southern regions, you say….”
“Precisely the opposite environment from Whitewolf Territory here.”
The Northern Region, where harsh seasons persist eternally.
The south, where temperate seasons flow without end.
“Thanks to such an environment, the south is teeming with an astounding variety of life.”
Nature’s generosity meant abundance in all things.
Rare medicinal herbs and premium ingredients alike.
Plants of superior quality and remarkable efficacy could flourish there.
“With warm sunlight pouring down year-round! In soil kept moist by mist and dew! The peanuts could ripen absolutely magnificently!”
“Wow.”
If the opportunity arose, it was a place I absolutely wanted to visit.
Adlern popped a peanut from Limorak Gorge into his mouth.
Crunch, crunch.
As the rich, savory flavor spread across his palate, Adlern’s eyes gently closed in satisfaction.
“The secret to this lingering sweetness and that sharp, delightfully nutty flavor rising up lies right there-.”
“Just now!!”
A sharp voice cut through the moment.
Adlern’s words came to an abrupt halt.
His eyes snapped wide open.
They were as round as a ferret’s startled by thunder.
Seraphia’s eyes too were bulging like a rabbit’s caught in a lightning strike.
As if by agreement.
Seraphia and Adlern turned their heads toward the source of the voice.
And there, before the wide-open Administrative Office door.
“What did you just say!?!”
Adrian stood with eyes blazing like a predator that had spotted its prey.
* * *
A single word had pierced my ears.
“What did you just say!?!”
“…Y-yes?”
Adlern trembled, clearly flustered.
Seraphia also shrank back, her shoulders hunched in alarm.
I strode forward until I stood directly before Adlern.
“What did you just say!?!”
“Th-this lingering sweetness-.”
“No, before that!”
“Warm sunlight streaming down-.”
“Even before that!”
“Unlike Whitewolf Territory-.”
“Further back!”
“A region even Schönne had never heard of-.”
“Where exactly is it?”
“L-Limorak Gorge….”
“Limorak Gorge!!”
I hadn’t misheard.
I’d heard it clearly.
Limorak Gorge.
If my memory served me right-.
Sylvandir Forest.
…And that place where the elves’ land lay was none other than Limorak Gorge.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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